


kiss me in the corridor

by atlantisairlock



Series: quiet nights poured over ice & tanqueray: shoot x halsey [8]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: A+ Parenting, Author's Favorite, Children, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Future Fic, Luggage, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5296922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So apparently holidays are supposed to be really relaxing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kiss me in the corridor

So apparently holidays are supposed to be really relaxing. Not that Root would know - the only overseas trips she's taken in the past twenty years have been in the line of duty, flying for her life and whatnot. Not exactly a conducive environment for lying on a beach and sipping mocktails with the cute little umbrellas in them. But she digresses - according to the copious brochures at the travel agencies, she's supposed to be having the Time of Her Life in Paris, the self-proclaimed City of Love, climbing the Eiffel Tower and enjoying classy cuisine. Watching Shaw pack, however, is not exactly contributing to this supposed warm fuzzy feeling. She has never seen Shaw this... flustered. Irritable, yes; snappy, certainly... but  _flustered?_

According to Shaw, Root is not helping. Literally and figuratively. In her defence - which is, in Shaw's opinion, not a defence at all - Root does not like packing. She's managed to avoid the mammoth task of helping to stow all their crap in two suitcases for a fortnight's trip to Paris for a while, but it's now twelve hours before their flight and Shaw's finally caught up to her, and oh boy that is not a happy Shaw. Not that Shaw is ever happy per se, because she doesn't really feel things, but she looks pretty mad. Not cute-hot-we're-gonna-have-great-sex mad, but  _mad_ mad. Root sets her plate of steak down. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

Shaw gives her the stink-eye. "If I start telling you what's wrong, we'll be here all day and miss the flight, so go help me get our daughter to pack her carry-on already. We fly in twelve hours and she isn't packed!"

Root frowns. This doesn't seem to be a major problem. "So what?" 

Judging by Shaw's unsavoury reaction, this is the wrong thing to say. Root ends up trudging upstairs with Carmen's share of dinner and a glass of Pepsi, knocking on her door and placing the food on her table. She's tapping away on her mobile phone with a grin on her face. Root barely resists rolling her eyes. It's probably her boyfriend. It's not that Root's got anything against him; he seems sweet and kind and not a dangerous creep - the Machine confirmed that for her - but she's highly suspicious of All Boyfriends on principle. Especially if said boyfriend is a threat to their family getaway to Europe. Root throws herself dramatically onto what free space is left on Carmen's bed, looking up at her daughter with practiced doe-eyes. "Sweetheart, would you please  _please_ please with caramel fudge on top, pack your carry-on?" 

Carmen sighs loudly, though with an amused smile on her face, but doesn't make a move towards her backpack. Root plows on. "Just toss a couple things in there, pretend you've got it packed, make your mother happy and then throw in whatever you want when we're about to leave."

"I heard that!" Shaw calls from downstairs, and it's Root's turn to sigh. "So much for that plan." 

"Oh, Mom! Dan's telling me something important; just give me ten minutes." Carmen wheedles, forgetting that Root is the master of wheedling, and she whines right back. "Please, sweetheart, just pack it all in and bring it downstairs and calm your mother's nerves; if I don't make you do it then your mother will get mad and make me sleep on the couch and I won't get any hot kinky bedtime action before our flight tonight."

Carmen drops her phone and stares at her, horrified. "Oh my  _god,_ Mom," she cries, about the same time Shaw yells "oh my  _GOD,_ Root!" from a floor down. Carmen is already jumping off her bed, pushing Root insistently out of her room. "Jeez, okay, I'll be done in fifteen minutes, just... ugh, I need to bleach my brain," she groans, shutting the door behind Root with a thud. Root laughs all the way downstairs, and even Shaw seems amused. "You are a _terrible_ parent."

"But I got her to pack her luggage," Root teases, sliding her arms around her wife's waist and pulling Shaw close. "Not bad, I think."

A hint of a smirk appears on Shaw's face as she leans into Root's touch. "Don't flatter yourself," she warns with a smile. "And by the way, you haven't packed your carry-on either." Root makes a noise of protest, and Shaw prods her in the ribs. "Do you want to sleep on the couch or not?"

"Really, Sameen? More threats?" But she's grinning when she eases out of their embrace. "Fine, I'll be done in a few."

"Good. Just put it with the suitcases." Shaw turns back to her work, sorting their shirts out, and Root watches her for a minute before she succumbs and calls her name softly. "Shaw?"

Her wife sighs and looks back at her. "Yes, Root?"

Root drops to one knee, cupping one hand behind Shaw's neck and touching their foreheads together before pressing a kiss to her lips. "I love you."

Shaw's eyes are closed, a brief smile flashing onto her face as she reaches up to tuck Root's hair behind her ear, pads of her fingers gentle against her cheek. "Go pack your things, Root." 

The warmth of her touch lingers when Root starts stuffing necessities into her knapsack.


End file.
